A Ferelden Encounter
by DMFAZINA
Summary: Anders has been wandering around the Ferelden countryside helping mages until a sudden storm forces him to seek shelter and he finds himself face to face with the one person he'd never thought he'd see again. anders/m!hawke SLASH


**So yeah, i know it's been what...like a year or something since i last posted anything? i also may have deleted a bunch of stuff...yeah, don't care. I mean unless any of you want to read that shit, let me know or something and i'll repost somewhere. Anywho, Dragon age II, rated M, i think there'd a bad word or two in here, sappy, bittersweet for my favorite da2 pairing. **

**enjoy.**

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A Ferelden Encounter

-:-

A child sitting playing in the dirt glances up at a tall, cloaked man walking by, he stares in bold curiosity at this stranger, but his mother comes and draws him away in alarm, "don't stare you little fool, don't you know what _his _kind can do to you?"

Anders had heard that all before. But it was insignificant, did this woman know of the things he'd done for his cause? no, and she would never understand even if she did, nobody would understand that nothing mattered more than freedom. Not just for him but for all Mages. He hadn't expected to be understood, for anyone to side with him, he'd understood long ago that he was alone in this.

And yet there was a face from his past that continued to haunt him, someone from long ago who had loved him.

It was Garret Hawke.

The memory of Hawke's face as he yelled at Anders, told him to leave and never come back.

To think that mere weeks before they had been kissing, playing around in bed together. Making love.

After three years of wanting him and he only enjoyed a mere few months with his beloved before he made his move.

But it was for the mages! it wasn't just for him! the Mages needed to be set free of oppression. deep down, he was right.

Anders knew he was right.

And so here he was wandering from town to town in Ferelden, never staying long enough for anyone to memorize his face. He thought of the Witch of the Wilds and how he might end up living in the woods in a fucked up cottage surrounded by Wildlings.

but it was better than the Free Marches, being pursued by Templars. the Templars here had nothing on Kirkwall's best.

the sky above darkened, the wind howled as if announcing the oncoming storm, but thankfully his wandering brought Anders to an old cottage near a lake. It was one of those places built all along this mountainside for travelers It was a kindness from the old king of Denerim. most of them were torn down and burnt during the Blight but a few had survived, along with some that had been rebuilt by the travelers themselves. The cabin seemed empty when Anders first walked in but he found the inside was clean and warm. A fire was burning in the hearth and there was a pack on the table. Clear signs of an occupant, he hoped they wouldn't mind sharing the cabin for a little while, at least until the storm ended. he set down his own pack and was about to pull off his hood when the stranger entered.

His heart stuttered to a stop and for one millisecond he thought he might black out.

He dropped his hand from his hood, he couldn't expose himself now, he considered leaving right that second but when Hawke caght sight of him he smiled, "ah, the storms here already? i've been trying to outrun those clouds all day. luckily I found this place."

He looked exactly the same as he did three years ago.

Still brawny and handsome. That charming grin on his face. Those welcoming gold eyes.

Everything about him, it made Anders knees weak. Filled his head with confusion.

But then the panic settled in. Hawke had all but killed him back then, if he knew it was him then what would he do? Anders couldn't take the risk, he had his mission, help the Mages in Ferelden, finish what he'd begun in Kirkwall, he'd given up whatever life he could have had with Hawke years ago, his own freedom had collapsed into flames just like the Chantry on that fateful day.

He had no choice now, he had to leave he couldn't-

The sudden explosion of lightning in the sky was like a warning, a rejection. Hawke approached slowly, "come in, it looks like it's going to be bad out there tonight." Anders stepped aside as Hawke shut the door.

The wind howled loudly outside the windows and Anders wasn't sure what to say or do. He opted for being the silent stranger.

Hawke stared at him, "do you speak? isn't it hot under that hood? you could take it off i won't do anything." he gave Anders an easy smile, a comforting smile.

Anders stood stock still, not wanting to speak because if Hawke recognized his voice then this was pointless.

"well, i assume your mute, and have a terrible burn scar. so it's fine if you can't talk and are worried about putting me off my dinner with your face so feel free to take a look around."

Anders bows jerkily before settling by the table, hoping to stay in that one spot all night.

Hawke stares at him again, "you dropped your staff." he goes to pick it up, panic wells up in Anders mind, Hawke probably knew he was an apostate now. damn it all! he shouldn't even entered this damn place!-

Anders stands up ready to fight if he had to.

Hawke was staring at the staff, it was old, the only thing he could afford to take with him from the free marches. he ddin't think Hawke would recognize it.

It didn't seem he did.

Hawke turns and sees how uneasy Anders is.

"oh, i don't care if your an apostate." He hands the staff to Anders.

"I used to know someone who was an apostate...my sister was also an apostate. But she died."

Anders knew that, her name was Bethany, she'd died in Lothering when Hawke was trying to get his family to safety.

He remembered when Hawke had told him. lying in bed one late night. talking.

Gods, they'd gone through all the steps, the rough sex on every flat surface, the fights, the deep, emotional talks in the middle of the night, they'd gone through so much together. if they had still been together right now they would be like an old married couple.

He knew it. He knew it in his heart and he missed it so much.

But he had a duty to the mages.

Perhaps one day he would be able to make up for it.

One day.

"Well, i've been heating up some water for a bath, did you know they've installed those new bathrooms in these cabins now? i heard about it last time i was in Denerim.

Why was Hawke in Ferelden anyway? didn't he have his new life in Kirkwall? But Anders suddenly remembered what it might have been like, he'd lost everyone, Bethany didn't even make it to Kirkwall, Carver had been attacked in the Deep Roads and the only way to survive was to become a Grey Warden, and despite their heroism it wasn't a life Anders would wish on anyone. and his mother, Leandra, Hawke's mother, had been kidnapped and murdered by a crazed necromancer. and he...Anders had...Had betrayed him and despite that Hawke let him go.

And at the ruins of the Chantry, before he'd been sent away.

Fenris had left. Damn it all even Merril wouldn't side with him. Only Aveline and Varric.

Everyone else had...Isabela had left before things got serious.

The bitter, horrible truth was that Hawke had effectively lost everyone he'd ever loved.

And yet here he was smiling and cheerfully preparing a bath for himself and sharing a cabin with a stranger as if everything was okay.

It wasn't okay, Anders heart hurt for him and guilt ate at his insides making painful to breathe.

As Hawke disappeared into the other room Anders considered taking off his hood.

Letting Hawke know he was here and alive.

But it wasn't wise.

It wasn't.

He needed to get to the next town and soon.

Perhaps he should leave before Hawke finishes his bath.

But outside the thunder and lightning lit up the sky as if there was a war going on in the heavens.

He did the only thing he could do, he sat down and waited.

He sat still and silent, as Hawke wandered around after his bath, cleaning and cooking dinner. When they ate Anders did so quietly.

Hawke talked his ear off though, telling him about Kirkwall and his family and his friends, and each word tore at Anders because he knew these things, detail by detail.

To be reminded of them was torture.

Hawke told him about what had happened afterward, being exiled and separating from what little he had left.

Anders' hands curled into fists.

All the anger and pain he'd suffered in those final years in Kirkwall surfaced in his skin, blue cracks making fissures in his skin, parting for the blue of Justice who had long since faded into the back of his consciousness unable to cope with the guilt and self-hatred when realizing what he'd become, and yet facing this piece of their past a tiny piece resurfaced, Anders thought he could almost feel him, Justice, who saw Hawke's life as unfair.

He'd lost his temper, for naught but a moment. but it was clear that Hawke recognized that.

The blue cracks closed, Anders stayed silent, breathing hard under the hood. Trying to come to grips with the terror he felt at being discovered.

Hawke was still seated however, his expression somber.

"You're alive."

Anders bit his lip, "...Y...Yes."

"Shut up."

Anders covered his face with his hands.

"And take the damn hood off."

Anders obeyed, letting it slide off his head.

"have you been helping the Ferelden mages?"

He couldn't narrow it down to the fact that the few he'd helped weren't even in the circle yet.

Anders only nodded.

Hawke took a deep breath, he looked like he wanted to argue but he didn't say anything. It was as if he knew what Anders would say, they'd always talk in circles when it came to this.

At the bottom of things, Hawke would never understand mages because he wasn't a mage. And Anders kenw that. And Hawke knew it.

They would never see eye to eye on it.

It was pointless to argue now.

Pointless-

"They weren't circle mages though." Anders blurts out, "I have to stay away from the circles because of the templars...But i found a few villages with young children who are showing signs of magic, i teach them how to control it, to watch out for demons...I try...To help them."

Why was he explaining himself to Hawke like this? Anders blinked and looked away, but his eyes were burning.

"i didn't know they would leave." he whispered, "we were friends and i thought that even if i...even if i went my own way i thought that they would side with you in the end i didn't know..."

Hawke hadn't said a word.

Anders choked back a sob, "i thoght you would be fine without me. You even let me live. I thought that...That no matter what you'd be fine."

"And you?" Hawke asks suddenly, "Are you fine?"

"Hawke-"

"I asked you, are you fine without me?"

No.

"Yes."

No. No Anders had never felt this lonely. This empty. not since Karl. And that was a deeper friendship then love.

But Hawke was his. Hawke belonged to him and he belonged to Hawke.

They were supposed to grow old together.

But Anders had a mission.

Hawke nodded, "i see."

He stood up abruptly and left to the bedroom.

Anders sobbed quietly alone.

When the tears finally stopped Anders noticed that the rain had stopped, the cold wind howled no more and all that remained of the war outside was a soft rumble of thunder in the distance.

he knew very well that he should leave.

And yet he knew Hawke was asleep in the other room.

Anders didn't think after that, he stood up and removed his cloak and boots. left his staff by the door.

there were three cots inside and Hawke was huddled in the one under the window.

Anders crept as silent as a mouse before crawling in to curl around Hawke's sleeping body.

And it was like he'd come home.

Feeling this familiar skin under his hands.

He fell asleep a mere five minutes after.

* * *

-:-

* * *

"I thought you said you were fine without me."

Anders stirs but doesn't wake, he simply curls deeper into this warmth, it felt so familiar to be here curled against Hawke's body, by habit he buried his face against Hawke's neck, kissing at the soft skin of his shoulder.

He felt Hawke's hand touch his hair.

"Wake up."

Anders blinked, turned his head and stared up at him, he felt like his brain had just turned on and told him he was in reality, not a dream.

He sits up quickly, in a panic and ready to jump out of bed but Hawke yanks him back against his chest despite his squirming.

It's the warmth of his skin, and the feel of his breath against the back of his neck that makes Anders stop moving and settle into Hawke's grip.

"You're an idiot." Hawke says softly, wrapping his arms around Anders' shoulders, "for helping everyone and not leaving anything for yourself."

Anders wanted nothing more than to lose himself in Hawke's warmth but the guilt nagged at him, kept him cold and his mind solid, he pulled away from that warm touch he'd longed to feel again for so long.

"you don't understand." He whispered, sitting on the edge of the cot feeling the heat of the rising sun through the open window, a light morning rain began to fall and whatever words he planned to say were swept along with it.

He stared down at his hands, trying to stop them from trembling, he'd been gone for more than three years, he'd done well, better than what he'd been doing in Kirkwall. He'd saved lives, helped the mage youth, despite the fact that he was a failure of a mage, a failure of a friend…a horrible lover. But his life had never been easy, he'd left people behind before. He turned slowly out of a desperate need to see Hawke's face but he stopped and looked away again because he wasn't sure he could bear to see the disappointment in Hawke's eyes.

It was like he'd blown up the chantry tower all over again.

The horror and shock, the sound of Sebastian screaming, he still dreamed of that night because even though he'd known it was necessary to fight the Templar oppression and he did not regret what he did to fight it he was tormented by the loss he'd felt, because in a way that was the defining moment of his life. Since that moment he knew that he would never love again, that he would never be close to anyone the way he'd been with Hawke, the next person he would betray would not be someone he held close to his heart.

The hopelessness and agony he felt gave him the strength he needed to stand up, "I can't stay."

Hawke followed him with all the swiftness of a warrior, silent and strong, his hand was warm when it touched his shoulder.

Those fingers brought back a heat to his body that only loneliness could take away.

Longing burned through Anders like he was made of nothing more than desire.

"I can't forgive you for what happened in Kirkwall," Hawke says, "and I hated you so much for so long…"

Anders stared down at his boots, unsure and struggling not to react to this in any way, to simply hold back until he was alone and could cry without witnesses.

Hawke's other hand touched his hip and he drew him into his arms slowly, Anders shuddered, drawing in each shaky breath one by one.

"But seeing you now, alive, I don't think I'll survive letting you go a second time."

Anders tried to muster what little strength his heart allowed him, tried to resist the weaknesses that preyed upon him but Hawke's lips touched the delicate shell of his ear, "I love you, Anders…I can't-I can't let you go."

Every barrier he'd raised up to save him from this was torn down by those three words. The words he'd spoken himself in front of that fire place, in that room at the estate, in a city filled with nothing but memories. He couldn't hold back then, it was useless to even try to defy them now after having endured this long.

It was all…

Pointless.

Anders turned around in Hawke's arms and drew him into a kiss, their lips melting together in a heat that neither of them had felt since their last fateful encounter. So much had changed between them except for this, heated touches, wet kisses and when they fell together Hawke under Anders, holding him up with his strong arms, somehow, the past they shared in that extravagant room returned.

Anders pulled at Hawke's thin nightshirt, pushing it over his shoulders and arms finally gazing down at his firm, rugged body, covered in scars. Hawke's body told the tale of their love and seeing it, being able to run his fingers over that hard chest, the many dreams he'd dreamt could not compare.

He sat upon Hawke's hips and pulled off his own shirt, Hawke stared up at him, desire evident in his gaze, he smiled in that way that made Anders' heart skip a beat. "don't smile like that," Anders whispered leaning down to kiss him, "you'll kill me."

Anders ran his hands all over Hawke, along his chest, his strong arms, he intertwined their fingers, pulled one arm away to sneak underneath Hawke's pants. Anders leaned back a bit and spread Hawke's legs, he settled between them and brought his hand to Hawke's mouth, Hawke licked his palm until it was dripping and Anders took it down to their erections, drawing them both into his warm wet grip. Hawke arched under him with a heated groan, "you are still so good at this."

Anders grinned down at him, "well, it takes a special sort of magic." He leans down and drowns Hawke in kisses. Pressing his lips against his cheeks, forehead, he leans down to the side and devours his ear, Hawke shudders beneath him. Hawke's hands are in Anders' hair, threading through the thin blonde locks with a familiarity that brought back scenes from a life they'd long since let go of. He returned his hand however down between them, using their precum to make his grip slicker, Anders was sucking hard on his neck and Hawke couldn't hold back a low, breathless groan. Seeing that Anders was breathing hard against his neck and his hand moved urgently between them, Hawke dragged Anders into a kiss, plunging his tongue inside and drinking in each gasp and groan as Anders kissed back, they kissed like they were fighting darkspawn, neither willing to go down until their last breath, it was then, with a little bit of biting that Anders broke down in shivers, shuddering hotly against Hawke's body as his semen spurted out against Hawke's firm stomach and all over Anders' fist.

They lay like that for a few minutes, kissing and simply losing themselves in the afterglow.

Anders rolled off Hawke and wiped the cum off his and Hawke's stomachs and hands with Hawke's night shirt.

"oh, sure, use my shirt to clean the mess. Why does it seem so symbolic?"

Anders tossed the shirt aside and laid down beside Hawke, reaching up to caress his chest, "perhaps the underlying meaning is that I still rely on you too much."

Hawke simply laughed, his own and smoothing down Anders hair, "you have sex hair." He says with a grin.

Anders sighs and buries his face in the sheets, his hands moving upward toward Hawke's face, he leans up and drags Hawke down for another kiss.

"I…" Anders begins, unsure and terrified, silently reliving every bad choice he'd ever made. "I love you, too, Hawke." He whispers.

Hawke's gaze upon him was like the sun, like a blessing he was receiving from a god or goddess he didn't believe in, he didn't deserve it but he'd be damned if he let it go.

If one was to summarize Anders' life it would always come down to how many mistakes he'd made, and he'd made so many. But the truth was that between the both of them, the bad decisions they'd made separately and together well, it was enough for one lifetime and their lives weren't over, not by a longshot.

But between his bad choices, the justified choices and what few miracles happened between then and now, well, he would count meeting Hawke as a lucky break, loving Hawke as destiny and well…Hawke loving him back? A miracle.

Whether he chose to stay or go after this didn't matter, his miracle was not going anywhere.

* * *

**ok so i don't think it's believable at all since Anders was an asshole for what he did, i still ship these two so hard i can't handle any kind of gameplay without sobbing. whatever, nobody understaaaands.**

**hope you enjoyed, feel free to flame. **


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